"Richard, how lovely to see you again!" Pauline cried. "And, oh, Richard, I'm sure you've grown. Don't you think he has grown?" she demanded of everybody. "Richard, how clever of you to grow when you're twenty-seven."
It was really like old times to go babbling on like this, while Richard sat and smiled encouragingly and spoke never a word.
"Coming for a stroll?" he asked.
"Oh, but I ought to see Guy first," she said. "Richard, I hope you like Guy."
He nodded.
"Do you think he looks like a poet?"
"Never saw a poet before," said Richard.
"Oh, but like your idea of a poet?"
"Never thought much about poets," said Richard. "So you aren't coming for a stroll?"
"I will to-morrow, but I must spend the sunset with Guy."